


Back at It, Once More

by Otava



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed, UST, emotionally repressed victorians, for reasons?, my beta wanted me to tag her as my muse, two dudes living together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otava/pseuds/Otava
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson is having back problems from uncomfortable sleeping arrangements at Reid's house; Reid discovers that Jackson sometimes sleeps in his bed while he is gone.</p><p>Set during S2 when the two are living together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back at It, Once More

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [Breezling](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Breezling/pseuds/Breezling) for 'being a muse', a beta and helping me add sassy Jackson lines.  
> Also, for getting me to write/post all this Ripper Street fanfic.  
> Thanks as well to the nice people of this small fandom community that I never knew existed.
> 
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Its been over a year and a half since I've watched S2 so, yeah, I'm sure this story is super ooc and has a bunch o'plot problems. I JUST WANTED TO DO A CUTE 'SHARING A BED' STORY BUT IT GOT KINDA SERIOUS, CREEPY AND SAD. I'M SORRY. 
> 
> Might do a part 2 as requested by beta ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Let me know if this is something anyone else would be interested in, I guess?

When Reid entered his house, he found the Americain passed out in his chair, looking a little bit more scruffy and distressed than his usual self. Reid actually couldn’t blame the man, he had just been cast aside by his wife, Long Susan, and left in complete exile from their home in Tenter Street. Reid had agreed to allow Jackson to live with him for a while, until he sorted things out with his lady. 

Fortunately for Reid, the arrangement strangely worked because as of recent, he too had found himself alone. Both his wife, Emily, and his daughter, Mathilda, were gone from his life. He had a house built for three to himself now. Coming home to an empty house daily had been strange and depressing after years of having somebody always waiting for him. Although Jackson was not always the best company, he was company nonetheless and Reid was becoming increasingly thankful for it. 

“Get up and wash your face, man. I have brought us back some food,” Reid spoke loudly, trying to rouse the captain from his slumber. Jackson just grumbled as Reid lightly kicked at his feet, causing the man to slide a from the furniture a little. “Jackson, you need to get yourself up from that chair. You are going to cause your neck to cramp up if you keep on sleeping like that.” 

Jackson groaned, “Goddammit, Reid. For once, just leave me be. I don’t think I’ve slept this well in weeks! It just so happens that this chair is the most comfortable piece of furniture that you own. Well, it’s the most comfortable piece of furniture that you own that I’m also allowed to sleep on, anyway. It’s much better than that miserable excuse of a temporary bed that you allow me to use. Or your slightly more comfortable couch for that matter.”

“May I remind you,” Reid sighed, “that you are allowed to stay here purely out of the kindness of my own heart and nothing more.”

“Tell your heart that I am highly grateful for your offerings, but my back and neck elect to disagree with the ‘generosity’ you have showed me thus far. I’m begging you, Reid, I need a better mattress for my poor back.” Jackson theatrically rubbed at his neck and shoulders for emphasis. 

Reid rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you fix that problem yourself? One would think, that as a Pinkerton, you would be used to living in more dire conditions than you are currently faced with.”

“One _would_ think that, but sadly that isn’t true. As of late I've been accustomed to ‘more luxurious conditions,’ you might say. Don’t get me wrong; if I had to, I could still ‘rough it’ on occasion but I've been here over two weeks now and this is getting a bit ridiculous. I didn't plan on having to ‘get used to’ such a shitty bed every night. I fear it’s affecting my work.”

“Perhaps you would like to move out then, hmm?” Reid said, raising his eyebrow.

“No. No. Um, you’re right, it’s not as big of a problem as I’m making it out to be,” Jackson corrected himself, laughing nervously. “Shit, I don’t really want to move out. Sorry, you know us Americans, we do like our complaining. I know you may call it ‘rude,’ but we call it ‘spirit.’ Shows you that we’re alive and kickin’ and all that...”

“I see,” Reid smirked deciding to change the subject back to its original topic and the reason why he woke Jackson up. “ So I take it you want some of this food I brought home with me then?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m starvin’”

“I’ll let you eat on one condition: if I give you food, you are going to have to stop complaining to me about your back. At least for a week.”

“I guess I have no choice in the matter then,” Jackson said with a swipe at the bag of food which Reid pulled away just in time. “Whatever your highness demands,” Jackson corrected his response to a less negative one. Reid rewarded him with the bag. “Oh~. What have we got here, now?”

“Just some chips and some meat pies,” Reid revealed.

“It’s something, at least. How ‘bout I improve this meal with some drink?”

“Sure,” Reid said shrugging and sitting down.

Jackson got up and went to the table where he took out a large bottle of something strong for the two to share. He, took a drink and then passed it to Reid.

The two sat eating and chewing for a while before Jackson opened his mouth again with a hint of a crooked smile, “So did you have a tough time at work today, or what?” 

Reid touched his cheek, suddenly remembering that he had been struck in the face by a man earlier that day. He suspected that there was evident bruising now, from Jackson’s comment. “It was fine,” he replied.

“I can give you something to help with the swelling and color, if ya want.”

“If you wouldn't mind, that would be tremendously helpful to me.”

“I know. You gotta take good care of yourself, Reid. A bachelor such as yourself has to look good for the available ladies of Whitechapel, don't you?”

Reid looked on stone-faced at Jackson insinuation. He didn't dare grant a reply to such a lecherous comment. “That reminds me, there is a new body in the deadroom for you to look at tomorrow.”

“Not the guy who hit you, I hope,” Jackson asked.

“Unfortunately, no,” Reid smiled darkly.

“Lucky guy.”

“That man, yes. But not the man in the deadroom. I need to know what killed him.”

“I’ll perform an autopsy first thing tomorrow. For now, I must bid you goodnight,” Jackson said getting up from his seat and making his way to the spare bed he had been allotted.

“Indeed. Goodnight, Jackson.”

Reid decided to get ready for bed himself. He performed the arduous task of taking a bath. After, he sat in his bed, reading for awhile before finally allowing himself to go to sleep.

Reid woke up with the sun the next morning, getting dressed and cooking breakfast for himself before Jackson started to even stir in his sleep. Reid was almost done eating by the time Jackson came shuffling out to meet him

“‘Mornin’.” Jackson always looked extra scruffy and haggard when he first woke up.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” Reid asked between a sip of his breakfast coffee. He noticed that the captain was attempting to stretch out his sore muscles and crack his neck and back to ease the pain.

“Slept like a newborn,” Jackson responded through gritted teeth, remembering what he had promised the day earlier.

“I’ll need you to be at work within the hour,” Reid told Jackson. His watch read 7:14; he planned to leave within the next 5 minutes himself.

“Alright. Ah!” Jackson finally managed to to get a particular crick out of his neck. “I’ll be there soon.” 

“There’s some left over food on the stove,” Reid mentioned. “Not much, but some.”

“Thanks. I’ll get to it once I fully wake up,” Jackson groaned.

“Must we go through this practically each morning?” Reid asked curiously.

“Yes,” Jackson plainly stated. “Just give me 10 minutes and I'll be fine.”

“I’ll do better than that, I’ll give you 40,” Reid said, taking one last gulp of coffee then walking towards the door. “I'm heading off to work now. I expect you to clean the dishes when you're done eating since I so thoughtfully cooked for you.” 

“You are worse than my wife, you know that?” Jackson said, while shoveling some of the still hot food into his mouth from the pan. He cleaned up the mess that Reid had made as he ate, then went to get changed into his day clothes when he was done.

* * *

“You’re 10 minutes late,” Reid openly announced as Jackson came walking into his station house with his medical bag slung over his shoulder.

“And you still have a black eye,” Jackson shot back, “Nice to see you again so soon, Reid.” Some of the officers in room lightly chuckled but stopped, immediately, when Reid scowled in their direction.

“The body's already out on the table, I’ll come to check on your progress in about an hour.”

“Sounds good.”

Jackson walked over to the body after getting himself situated; the victim was a male, looked to be around late 30’s and appeared to be rather clean. There were no visible markings on his body. ‘Interesting,’ Jackson thought to himself.

“Anything to report on, Captain?” Reid said, striding into the deadroom an hour later with Drake in tow. 

“Something very fascinating indeed,” Jackson started with a glimmer of interest in his eye.

* * *

Jackson’s discovery had been very informative to Reid, who launched an investigation right away in order to prevent another murder from happening. “Go home, Jackson. I have no more need for you today.” Reid had said when Jackson was done explaining. 

“Oh, so it’s like that, Reid? Using me and then telling me to go back home?”

“You are welcome to stay if you want.”

“No,” Jackson laughed, “ I’ll be off then. See ya’ later, Reid,” 

Jackson waved goodbye.

The rest of the day the Inspector began picking through the city and its inhabitants to find the man responsible for the crime. The murderer had already been narrowed down to only three people from the information Jackson had provided and the information already known to Reid.

By dusk, the man responsible for the crime had been found but the outcome of the case proved deadly for him. His body left the scene under a white sheet.

“You’ve gotten blood on your clothes, Sir,” Drake observed when the two men came back to Leman Street.

“So I have,” Reid acknowledged as he looked for a spare shirt in his office. “And it seems that I do not have any clothes to change into.”

“You can head off early,” Drake suggested. “I can give have Artherton give you your paperwork to go. You did work after hours the last couple of days, after all.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea...”

“Reid, You can’t be working at a police station looking like a butcher on a bad day.”

“I suppose it won’t hurt to go home and change my shirt then,” Reid spoke, reluctantly giving in.

Edmund Reid opened up the door to his home in a great mood. Jackson was nowhere to be seen. His house felt a little empty without Jackson lazing around in it. Reid half-imagined Jackson sitting in his usual chair as he stepped into the room. For once, however, he could fully relax in the comfort of his own home again. It had been truly a delightful day for him, despite the death, the case had been shut quickly and the next day’s work looked like it would be an easy. 

Reid decided to go to his room to change his clothes before he did anything else but when he opened the door to his room, he found the American sprawled out on _his_ bed, fast asleep. “What the Hell are you doing,” Reid angrily boomed, rousing Jackson.

The sleepy-eyed American flinched as he gained eye-contact with Reid, “Jeez, what does it look like? I'm just trying to take a nap. Just didn't expect to see you here in the middle of the day.”

“It’s nearly night time now,” Reid said through gritted teeth. 

Jackson looked around the room, confused. “Still, It’s not even fully dark outside. You shouldn’t be home-”

“I should if you sleep in my bed whilst I am gone. Do you do this often!?”

“Sometimes. I don't get the chance as much as I'd like-”

“Unbelievable,” Reid stated. “Just unbelievable, Jackson. I can not believe you. How long have been doing this?!”

“How long have I been living with you again?” Jackson smiled weekly. Reid knitted his brow and absent-mindedly put his hand through his hair as he groaned in frustration.

“What?” Jackson interrupted, “Until now, you were none the wiser. You had no clue.”

“As a matter of fact I had my suspicions,” Reid answered quickly.

“How so?”

“The sheets smelt of a different scent. Like booze and cigarettes.”

“You're just saying things now,” Jackson marveled.

“I am not. I first noticed the smell of strong cigarette smoke in my room about a week ago but just thought you had been smoking nearby.”

“Probably so,” Jackson admitted, “but I don’t smoke in your bed. The smell is only directly on my clothes.” 

“Exactly! And I smelt it on my sheets.”

“”But I smoke around you too. You have the scent of my cigarettes on you from me smoking nearby you,” Jackson pointed out.

“I thought that too at first, but I also noticed the light scent of medical chemicals that you constantly use as well as the smell of your aftershave. And of your sweat, which is quite different than mine,” Reid added, embarrassed. The fact that he knew this mortified him. He just happened to pick up on it after cohabiting with the man, even before from work. There was just something about the smell of chemicals, cigarettes and booze that was just so ‘Jackson’. It was comforting.

“Oh, really,” Jackson said was questioning eyebrows. “Done a lot of sniffing other men, Inspector?”

“No,” Reid assured, stoically.

Jackson was sitting on the side of the bed now, glancing up at Reid. “How was it that you picked up on this, then?”

“I am a detective, naturally.” Reid’s eyes flickered down to Jackson’s face briefly. 

“Curious things to pick up on, I should say,” Jackson commented. “I wonder if you know the scents of Drake or any other man at H division like you do mine? “

Reid's face strangely contorted for a split second. “I am a detective, that is all,” he said again.

Jackson was up on the man now. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Reid said slowly. “That is so.”

“I see.” Jackson backed away from Reid. “Well, I'm off to the pub then. I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up.”

Reid watched the man leave his room, still in shock about what had just taken place.

* * *

“Reid. I'm dying here. Let me sleep in your bed.”

“Go away, Jackson.”

It had been four days since Reid had discovered Jackson’s little secret. The two briefly discussed it the day after the incident but nothing had been said since. 

“Please, Reid. We’re not going to have sex or anything. I just need some back relief. It’s been _four_ days since I’ve slept well.” Jackson’s voice sounded pained and weary. “Your bed is amazing, magic, there’s nothing like it. Please. We both had a rough day, now budge over. I’ll stay far away from you. It is big enough for two; unless you want to cuddle, that is," Jackson chuckled

Reid’s blood ran cold at Jackson’s comment. They both had been battered and bruised rather badly from fighting a small angry mob. Reid was too tired and sore to put up much of a fight or argue. “Fine. I'm only doing this because we both had a tough day, okay. Do not speak a word about this to anyone. Ever.” 

“Your secret is safe with me. I don’t want to lose my reputation with the ladies after all.”

Jackson began to lift the covers up to get in. “Just think of it sleeping in the barracks or in a crowded hospital.” 

“Stay on your side,” Reid cautioned.

“M’kay.” Jackson crawled under the covers. Reid tensed up as soon as he felt the weight of Jackson on the bed. “Don't be scared,” Jackson chuckled wearily, aware of Reid’s reaction. “I promise I will be gentle.” 

“I am sorry. I'm just not used to this.”

“Just close your eyes and don't think about me being here.”

“I'm trying to, but I can still hear your Yankee voice.” Reid’s exhaustion left his body for a brief moment and his common sense flooded briefly back in. “Please shut up and sleep before I change my mind.”

There was no response.

“Goodnight, Jackson. Please don't move around too much or touch me. Also, I'm warning you; I might snore.”

Reid closed his eyes, trying not to hone in the light breathing next to him. Eventually, he fell asleep. But that night Reid had a dream: a dream about fire and the night that he had lost his daughter. 

He was screaming and running after Mathilda as the world around him was being consumed by flames. Adrenaline rushed into his body as he was tried to grab ahold of his daughter. Reid caught up with her but she slipped through his fingers and plummeted into the empty darkness of the water below. Reid tried to chase after her but he felt a sharp pain as the fire begin to consume him. He screamed in agony, hopeless and alone until a hand reached out to grab him. He turned around and saw that it was Jackson, hand cool to the touch. 

“-eid!Hey, Reid Edmund!” Reid was shaken awake by Jackson. “Reid are you okay?”

“I-” Reid choked.

“Christ, man you were yelling at the top of your lungs. If that didn’t scare me enough, you also kicked and latched onto me really hard. I tried to shove you off but you still didn’t let go. Had to wake you up.”

It was then that Reid realized that he was still holding tightly onto Jackson’s nightshirt and gripping onto his arms. He released him right away. “It hasn't happened in a while, but yes: sometimes I do get night terrors.”

“So did I at one point. It's nothing to worry about,” Jackson reassured. “They can really destroy a night for a man,” he said with sympathy.

Suddenly, Reid’s face flushed realizing the embarrassment of the situation. He was so vulnerable. His eyes were blurred with tears, and freshly unearthed emotions that had been repressed; the dream was still fresh in his mind and was toying with his brain as if it really happened.

“Do... you want to talk about it,” Jackson offered

“No,” Reid answered quickly. “It was nothing. And I do not want to talk about it.”

“Was it really nothing, though?”

“Yes.”

“If you say so.” Jackson settled back into bed and began talking mindlessly to put the awkwardness behind them. “I remember the first moving to England. Susan and I were ‘escaping.’ I was scared shitless of losing her to the people hunting us down. We made a lot of people angry, you see, and it was a very delicate situation. I had the most terrifying dreams of my life during that time. I dreamt of her being dragged away from me, dying violently before my eyes night or even being raped as I helplessly watched night after night. Losing her was my greatest fear for the longest time. It haunted me. And now my fear has been made into a reality. She’s gone.

“You have not lost her yet, Homer,” Reid offered. 

“I figured that I have, though. But I can't if bring myself to accept that she's left me just yet. It's going to kill me, Reid. Living without her. My Susan. It’s going to destroy me. She is my whole world. What have I left in my life too look forward to live for? Booze? My job? The sad truth is that I have nothing left to live for but hope. Hope that my Susan will come back to me. Hope that I may allow myself to let her go one day if she doesn’t. Hope that I may love again. That's all I have left in this world to keep me going, that's all I have left to live for.” Jackson paused to see if Reid was going to stop him. “I reckon hope is all you have left too. All this time I knew you, you believed that your little girl was going to come back to you and your wife and that everything would be magically fixed by that. Except, that one lead you had on your daughter proved false and your wife is now dead. Your hope is presently destroyed and you finally accepted that this world has deserted you. Am i right?”

“I have always known that Mathilda is-”

“Your face lit up when you thought she was alive. You really believed it could be her. Your eyes lit up like, ‘See I knew what she was alive all along.’ And your eyes also died when you found out that it was not her; your wounds were reopened. I know how it must have hurt you, but you make it seem like it was nothing, a minor setback. You still had hope, that she was alive. It was all you could do to numb the pain. You brushed your defeat aside and hid the pain inside yourself. I know this. It affected you more than you are willing to let on. For God's sake you had every right to grieve! The grief was so much that it killed your wife. And in your wife's death, you now have to carry her remaining burden as well. You shoulder so much pain and now it's been awhile and you are starting to doubt if she is even alive at all. Admit it, Edmund. Just admit that you're hurting.” 

“Why?" Read choked. “Because you want me to admit that I’m as miserable as you?”

“No, because you need to admit that you're just a man who can suffer and have emotions like anyone else. Regardless of what you think, you are not an emotionless, heartless monster. You are a man. Not a psychopath. Not like the criminals and killers you chase after.”

“But more often than not,” Reid interrupted,“I’ve found that crimes most often occur because men do not know when to rein in their emotions. They lose control, I've seen it happen many times. People turn into monsters; slaves of their own desires, incapable of listening to reason or to follow the law. It not the other way around, Jackson. I have come to the conclusion, many years ago, that it is better for a man to keep his own personal torment to himself; under control, instead of focusing and fixating on it so much that he is consumed by grief and nothing else. I cannot allow this to happen to myself. So, no, I am not hurting. I am fine,” Reid lied.

* * *

Reid slipped out of the house early the next morning to get his mind off of what had happened the previous night. Work always seemed to calm him, or at least keep his mind off of things. The busyness of it pushed every stray thought out of his mind until it was the only thing left for him to focus on. When it came down to it: he had his work and nothing more. And Jackson had his debauchery, Reid thought bitterly as an afterthought.

* * *

“Can I sleep with you again?” Jackson asked the following night when Reid came home.

“What?” Reid said in shock, not expecting either of them to talk about the subject, especially after what happened. “No you may not. It was awkward enough, yesterday. I will not subject myself to that situation again.

“Please Reid, it's only weird if you make it like that way. Are you scared of your manhood being tested?” Jackson teased.

“What? No,” Reid defended. He somewhat actually did want Jackson's company, Reid was not willing to admit this, but that night had been one of the best nights of sleep he had had in months. 

“It's just odd,” Reid explained, “to have two men sleeping together when it is not at all necessary.” 

“But it is necessary,” Jackson argued. “I think it did us both good to have someone sleeping next to us at night. At least it did for me. Granted, you are not one of those pretty girls from Tenter Street but we can make do.”

“You have a bed of your own.” Reid noted, trying his best hide his embarrassment.

“It's only a crappy mattress full of lumps and causes incredible pain.” 

“It's a bed, nonetheless.” Reid pointed out. 

Jackson groaned in frustration. The mattress was indeed bad, but there was another reason why he wanted to sleep in Reid’s bed. Jackson did not want to admit this, but he wanted the comfort that Reid’s presence brought him at night. He was lonely and hurting and being isolated was the worst thing for him. Reid was clearly hurting too.

“Fine, Jackson,” Reid said after some time. “Fine. Do what you wish. You are always doing what you want and what pleases yourself, anyway.” He just wanted to get that uncomfortable conversation over with.

Jackson smiled under his mustache at his little triumph as he and Reid continued to angrily eat.

* * *

As soon as Reid crawled into his bed that night, he was followed by the American. Reid really didn't expect Jackson to _actually_ come to bed with him after the little argument they had earlier. He had just said agreed to Jackson to stop the conversation and thought Jackson would get the hint. The man had pluck. 

“Jackson,”Reid acknowledged as Jackson slipped into his bed

“Reid,” Jackson addressed back he shifted deeper into the bed to get more comfortable, touching Reid’s outstretched leg at one point.

Reid tensed at the contact, expecting them to say something about it. Nothing was said, however, and the leg moved quickly away.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Jackson began sleeping and Reid's bed more frequently. Slowly, Reid stopped complaining and asking Jackson why. Both men soon got used to the little arrangement.

“I was worried about you,” Reid said late one night when Jackson came into their bed in the light hours of the morning. 

“Sorry,” Jackson apologized, the scent of alcohol on his breath. 

Falling asleep without Jackson had proved to be more challenging for Reid than he thought. He hadn't even noticed how much he had relied on Jackson in his bed until the man was gone for once. His breathing and presence became a safety and sedative that got him to sleep and stay asleep. Once Jackson was situated, the two men fell asleep, together.

* * *

During the day the two men didn't talk about their living situation. Not even when they were at work did they mention that they even lived together. They showed up and left for work at different times. The random observer might not even know the two were 'good' acquaintances. The only times that the men fully relaxed in their association was in the safety of Reid’s home. Jackson and Reid became so familiar with each other in their co-habitation that they became almost like a married couple. They had seen each other in various states of undress; Jackson now slept completely shirtless. 

The two began to sleep closer to each other with subsequent each day. Light ‘accidental’ brushes of legs and arms now mattered not. They never touched, I'm not on purpose, anyway. Not on purpose to begin with, at least.

A few times, each of the men broke their unspoken ‘no touching’ rule. Reid did so one particular night he was feeling vulnerable and lonely. He had woken up from another minor nightmare. It was almost light outside but Reid wasn’t ready to get up quite yet but he couldn’t fall back asleep. 

The rise and fall of Jackson’s back looked so enticing. Thoughtlessly, Reid inched closer to him so that they were almost spooning. He placed the flat of his hand against the American’s back and fell asleep shortly after.

Reid always fell asleep first. Probably due to his physically demanding job and the fact that Jackson was accustomed to staying up and waking late. Sometimes Jackson decided to engage in some contact with Reid, who was always sleeping. Always in order to fall asleep faster, of course. Mostly it was just getting close enough to Reid so that they were barely touching. It was just the lightest of re-assuring touches only to help him get asleep. 

Then one night Jackson made a mistake; he placed a chaste kiss on Reid’s sleeping form. Doing that had been the worst mistake he had ever made. Thoughts he had tried to repress flooded back into his mind; hints of what he wanted, fantasies, lust and desires towards Reid all crashed down on him like a heavy weight. That would have been fine, but the fact that he was seriously thinking on acting on them disturbed Jackson so much that night became the first sleepless night he had in a while.

The next day Jackson felt strange. Like a blind man regaining sight. He had realized something important; he was starting to develop feelings for Reid. ‘Starting to,’ was the key word, there was the possibility of stopping them. He just had to stay away and collect his thoughts. So he did.

* * *

Reid had noticed that Jackson had become a little distant around him lately. Even at not at work.

“How’s that autopsy coming along?” Reid asked, trying to strike conversation.

“‘Alright.” Jackson was elbow deep in some corpse’s chest. Jackson’s answers got shorter and less personal everyday. Reid felt like he was trying to hold back constantly in their conversations. It was as if Jackson wanted to always say something else but instead, said less. He felt the two of them growing apart.

As well as shorter conversations, Jackson started to not sleep with Reid every night and it made Reid even lonelier than before. He didn’t dare mention anything to the American. He didn’t want to admit that he missed him, that he needed him, that he found comfort in him. He wanted him back in his bed so desperately but he dare not admit it to Jackson. So he didn’t.

* * *

It had been a rare night where Jackson actually decided to climb into Reid's bed. Reid’s mind buzzed with excitement as he felt the bed dip under Jackson’s weight. It was quite late, when Jackson crawled in; it had been at least 2 hours since Reid had said he was going to go to his bed so he pretended to be asleep and did not say a word of indication as Jackson settled on his side.

“Reid?” Jackson asked, wondering if he had woken up the inspector.

Reid regulated his breathing and continued to pretend to be asleep and did not respond.

After a few minutes, Reid then felt Jackson shift closer to him so that his chest was touching Reid’s back. Reid did everything in his power as to not indicate he was awake. He felt Jackson get close to him. Thankfully, Reid managed to remain calm and even out his breathing throughout the ordeal. When he was just starting to relax while trying to think an explanation for Jackson's closeness, he felt Jackson’s arm on his side. His eyes flew open. What was happening surely must be a dream, he reasoned. That could be the only explanation.

* * *

Reid woke up the next day to an empty bed. All evidence of Jackson being there with him that night was gone. It had almost been like a dream, except it actually happened. Homer Jackson came into his bed, snuggled up next to him and left. Heat rose to Reid’s cheeks as he recalled what had happened. Still in shock, he stepped out of his room and found Jackson sitting in a chair, drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. Reid looked at the man for any indication of what had happened in his face but none was there. He looked like his usual self while Reid looked on edge.

“Good Morning, Captain. I take it you slept well?” Reid questioned, trying to prod at the American.

“Exquisitely,” Jackson muttered, not taking his eyes off the newspaper.

Reid was at a loss.

That day, Reid paid way more attention the Jackson than normal. Why would Jackson do that? Did the man have feelings for him? Even so; did he have feelings for the man? Both men glared at each other suspiciously. Reid’s morning comment had Jackson on edge. Had Reid noticed his presence? Neither man said a word to one another and both tried to act normal, causing a bigger strain on their already crumbling relationship than they had before.

That night, Reid waited to see if Jackson would return to his bed but he did not so Reid drifted asleep, alone. That night was the first night in a long while where he had a certain type of dream, a dream that was sexual in nature.

The dream started out normally. He was in his house with Jackson and the two were in the sitting room, when suddenly, they were bed. This time, Reid decided to snuggle up against the American, as the American had done with him the previous night. Reid entwined his arms and legs, tight, onto Jackson who turned around and started to kiss him. Reid kissed back without question, which came as a surprise to both of them. The kissing proceeded to get heated; Jackson’s body felt warm and comfortable against and Reid naturally wanted to hold any warmth as close as possible to him. His body yearned to have the comfort of another’s touch again. Reid’s needy hips started to look for purchase as his cock stirred in his sleep; It had been so long since Reid had lost himself to the pleasures of the flesh. Jackson’s body was quite warm and welcoming in Reid's dream that night.

* * *

Socializing with Jackson became increasingly difficult after _that_ dream. It was hard for Reid to look at him in the same way as he did before. Similarly, it had been difficult for Jackson, who now noticed Reid’s strange behaviour towards him.

The thought of Jackson now coming to his bed, once more frightened and unsettled Reid. He didn’t know how he would act or what he would do, now, if it happened.

The next time that it happened proved to be the last time. Jackson came into his bed late at night. Reid made his state of awakeness known as soon as Jackson came in. The American simply stayed on his side of the bed, as a result. 

It had been a struggle for Reid to fall asleep this time, so he just lay there for hours with his back turned, listening to the calm breathing next to him.

In the hours of the early morning, many hours after Jackson originally came, Reid felt an arm drape around him again. This time, however, Jackson actually appeared to be asleep as evident, from his breathing. He must have done it subconsciously all along, Reid thought. The man was certainly accustomed to waking up pressed against someone or a warm body, after all, he had lived in a whorehouse for many years. It probably meant nothing to Jackson, Reid reasoned. It was all he could tell himself. He didn’t want to entertain the idea that Jackson might have wanted him as he did.

The coziness of Jackson’s body, wedged against him, reminded Reid of his sinful dream that he had been trying to forget. He was so tempted to lie there and indulge for a while but decided against it before things escalated out of control. Carefully, Reid tried to lift the heavy arm off. Unfortunately, Jackson's arm tightened harder as he tried to pull away. Reid eventually stopped struggling and submitted to its weight. He tried once more moments later, but this time his trying to get away prompted Jackson to pull him closer towards him; something stiff rubbed against his bum. That's when Reid panicked and decided to forcibly shove Jackson's arm off of him.

Jackson was awoken immediately. “Woah. What happened, Reid!” Jackson remarked, confused.

“Sorry” he apologized. “It's just you-. You just had your arm around me and I guess that I got frightened.”

“Ah.”

“Sorry,” Reid repeated again. He had to get up. His face was flushed from the encounter and so it seemed was Jackson’s. “Excuse me,” Reid whispered under his breath while he made his way out of his room. The American affected him so. He had to stop the sharing of his bed with him, he clearly couldn't handle the consequences that it brought. It was all too much for him to deal with, presently.

“Shit,” Jackson said, remaining in the room, realizing that he had crossed a line he could never go back on. “Shit!” Jackson said again, a little louder this time. He looked down, realizing just how serious the situation had gotten for him. He was angry with himself. He couldn't just keep his cock away from Reid like any civilized man would. That's all he had to do to keep things as they were; he only had to do one thing, and he couldn't even do that.

He knew deep down that he wanted Reid, so much so that he could no longer continue living with him. The look of disgust on Reid’s face said everything for him in that moment. He was no longer wanted. With that, Jackson collected his things and got dressed.

“Jackson, we need to talk,” Reid stated with a red face, appearing in the doorway.

“I'm leaving.” Jackson replied matter-of-factly.

“You’re what?” Reid said with his eyes wide.

“I can't stay here anymore, Reid. I'm leaving,” Jackson stated.

“Jackson you don't have to-” Reid said. He lightly put his hand on Jackson’s shoulder, stopping him, reassuringly.

“Yes, I do. I think we both know I do.” Jackson said, removing Reid’s hand with a saddened look. “I'm a grown man, I need to get a place of my own; a medical practice. I think that it's about time that I did so.” He paused. “Susan probably isn’t going to take me back anytime soon and I can't very well live here the rest of my life. Thanks for letting me stay here, but I fear that I have overstayed my welcome and that my time has come up. See you around, Reid.”

Reid’s mouth opened, wanting to say something but he stopped himself. 

With that, Jackson left, turning his back on Reid and severing the strange relationship they had built up the past weeks. He left leaving the two of them as they started out in the world: completely alone and in need of companionship.

Reid swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat as he wished Jackson goodbye. It was for the best.


End file.
